Foretold
by Jessibelle811
Summary: A seer comes to visit Enchancia and gives Cedric a look into the future if he continues to pursue the Amulet of Avalor. Dark Cedfia.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Sorry to anyone waiting for a new Intoxication chapter. I got distracted by finishing this idea. This story has been percolating in the back of my brain for about a year, but I hesitated to write it because of its darker nature. I would categorize this fic as dub-con, meaning dubious consent. If that is a trigger for anyone, then please do not read. This story is meant to be for entertainment and I'm not out to upset anyone. It is rated M for a reason.

I'm aware that this fic bears some similarities to Evil Orange Crayon's T-rated fic "Monster Takes the Crown". I let EOC know about this fic and got the go ahead to proceed. Any similarities are coincidence and the product of two similarly naughty minded writers. :-P No copying is intended. I also strongly suggest you go read her story as well because it's awesome.

This is a three chapter short story.

* * *

Foretold: Chapter One

Cedric twirled the stem of his wine glass through his fingers, thoroughly indifferent to the conversation going on around him. These dinners always bored him. When anyone of any importance came to visit Enchancia the higher levels of staff were expected to attend. If the visiting dignitary was a general or aristocrat he could have begged off, but not when their guest was of a magical background.

Cecylia Kumiega, silly name, but fitting as he found her to be a silly woman. She claimed to be clairvoyant. He didn't give one whit of credence to divination. Seers in his mind were the snake oil salesman of the magic trade. The royal family, though, seemed deeply enthralled with the woman.

"Can you tell me who I'll marry?" Amber nearly squealed.

"Oh no," Cecylia smiled down at the child. "All in due time, my dear. Besides, a girl your age shouldn't be concerned with such things yet."

James laughed outright, nearly upsetting his milk. "Are you kidding? That's all Amber lives for, to be the most powerful queen with the biggest castle and the best kingdom."

"Shut it, James," his sister hissed, flushing with embarrassment.

"Manners, Amber," their father chided lightly. "Don't talk that way in front of our guest."

"It's quite alright," Cecylia soothed. She shifted her attention to the youngest child. "And what about you Little Sofia? You haven't asked about your future. Is there no peek into the veil you'd like to make?"

The littlest princess scrunched her brow in thought. "With all respect Miss Kumiega, I don't think that there is."

The Seer smiled fondly down at the girl. "How unusual. Most children pester me with questions, but not you. Are you so content to wait for whatever will come?"

The clairvoyant's tone could be construed as impertinent, but she was in such earnest that the King didn't move to correct her.

"Well," Sofia said thoughtfully, "Mr. Cedric says divination isn't a real branch of magic. He says predictions of the future can't be trusted."

"Sofia," Queen Miranda began.

"It is all right," Cecylia raised a hand to stop the queen's reprimand. "It is not a child's fault if her teachers are blind."

Cedric pushed his plate away, sitting back with his arms crossed. "Blind? How very droll. I suppose I am blind because you can see so much more, including things that have not even happened yet."

"I was born with a gift I did not ask for. I denied my visions for many years, believing myself half mad. It was only when I embraced my gifts that I began to live the life fate intended for me, and one I am happy with."

"My congratulations," he rolled his eyes. "But forgive me if I've seen nothing in my life to give credence to your prophesies."

The rest of the table had grown quiet while the two lobed barbs at each other. The king and queen shared a nervous glance. Princess Sofia shifted in her seat, uneasy having started the discussion. James sat forward, eager to see fireworks. Even Amber appeared mildly interested.

"My mother had a saying, 'one cannot argue with ignorance'. I have met many people of the same mind as you, Mr. Cedric. No amount of proof will convince you. You will see what you wish to see and no more."

"How convenient," he sneered.

"Mr. Cedric," Cecylia smiled indulgently. "I could tell you your future very precisely and you would still claim it was a coincidence, or a self-fulfilling prophecy due to planted suggestion. Why waste my time?"

He cocked his right eyebrow. "Try me."

She looked to the king for guidance, but he merely shrugged. Roland was as interested as anyone else to see if the rumors of Cecylia Kumiega's gifts were indeed true.

"Very well." She leaned forward on her elbows, looking the sorcerer directly in the eyes.

Cedric squirmed in his chair, finding it intensely uncomfortable to meet the woman's intense gaze. He watched her brow furrow, her eyes squinting as if in a sudden pain. The room grew tense and quiet. A voice in the back of his head told him that it was all for dramatic effect, but the way she looked at him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul, unnerved him.

Her reaction came all at once. She gasped, her eyes widening into large saucers as the color drained from her face. Her lips twisted in a disgusted snarl and she eyed him as if she saw something that caused her fear.

"What?" King Roland leaned forward, no longer amused by this display.

Cecylia recovered quickly, but Cedric could see she was still shaken. "I, um, couldn't see anything. I'm sorry."

Cedric eyed her strangely. She was lying. A trickle of doubt crept into his mind. He'd never believed in the power of clairvoyance, but he felt uneasy all of a sudden.

Cecylia wiped her mouth with a napkin. "But I do seem to have given myself a bit of a headache. If your majesties will excuse me, I believe I'll go lie down for a bit."

"Of course," Roland and Miranda stood, allowing their guest to exit.

"I think you upset her, Mr. Cedric," Sofia whispered across the table.

"I'm sure being exposed as a fraud is upsetting," he groused.

"You really believe she's a fraud?" Roland said, taking his seat. "Her talents are said to be world-renowned. King Alfonso consults her on all matters concerning his kingdom."

"And yet their kingdom is not nearly so prosperous as Enchancia." Cedric gave the king an oily smile. "How fortunate that our king has better sense."

"Still," Roland took a sip of wine. "The chance to look into the future, to know your kingdom will grow and prosper, who wouldn't want that."

Cedric smiled, as if enjoying his own private joke. "Who indeed, Sire."

* * *

Cedric walked the long distance to his tower, relieved to finally be free of the polite, empty drivel that made up state dinners. Everyone was so afraid to step on the toes of anyone else that is made for stated, bland conversation. He preferred the company of books, written by authors long dead, to the milquetoast sentiments of the living.

He was almost to his door when he noticed the dark outline of a person hiding in the shadows. "Who's there?" He grasped his wand, and tried to look threatening.

"No need to be alarmed," the soft strains of a woman's voice surprised him. Cecylia Kumiega stepped into the light, her hands out in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to alarm you. I came to speak with you."

He lowered his wand, feeling foolish. "What are you doing here?" He snapped, upset to be caught off guard.

"May we speak inside, please?" She gestured to his door. "I don't think this is a conversation you want overheard."

"I think here will do just fine. I assure you there is nothing you could say that is of any consequence to me."

"Very well," her smile was closer to a sneer. "I came to tell you that you must stop pursuing the Amulet of Avalor."

His eyes searched the hallway automatically, afraid now that someone would hear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Amulet of Avalor," she spoke up, loud enough for her voice to echo off the empty walls. "The jewel that Princess Sofia wears around her neck. The jewel you're intent on stealing to make yourself king."

"Merlin's ghost, lower your voice," he hissed, unlocking the tower door. "Get in here."

"I thought so," she smiled sweetly.

Once safely ensconced inside his workshop, he turned on her. "What is it you're playing at?"

"I already told you, I see the future."

He snorted in disbelief, but she forged on. "I saw your future if you keep pursing this mad dream to rule the kingdom."

"And why would you concern yourself to help me? I think you're a fraud."

"It gives me no pleasure to come here. If it were only your own downfall I saw in my vision then I would gladly leave you to your fate. But there are other lives at stake."

"What is this really about?" He asked, suspicious. "Blackmail, is that it? Don't bother. I haven't admitted anything, and you have no proof. Unlike the ignorant dullards out there, I don't fall for your whole 'I can see the future' charade."

"How did I know about the amulet then?"

"It's an obscure piece of information, to be sure, but you could have come upon it somewhere."

"I meant, how did I know you were planning on stealing it?" She hissed through her teeth.

"I already told you, I've admitted nothing." He stepped back, regarding her with new eyes. "Or perhaps you're here to steal the amulet yourself."

"Don't be absurd," she sneered. "Besides, I wouldn't stoop so low as to steal from children." Her eyes flashed.

He crossed his arms, "Yes, you just swindle adults out of their money, I'm sure, with your portends of the 'future'. I think we're done here. If you would kindly see yourself out." He waved his hand dismissively and turned his back on her.

She grabbed his arm and her grip was firm. "You must not steal the amulet. You will bring ruin on the entire kingdom."

He tore away from her grip, unnerved by her intensity. "I believe I already told you, you can leave now."

She didn't pay any attention. She was staring at the far wall, her eyes moving rapidly back and forth. "No," she whispered. "You won't have to steal it."

"What are you on about?" He waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello?"

"So many lives," she whispered. "So many. And her, how could you do this to her?"

"Excuse me? Her? Who in the hell are you talking about?"

Cecylia shook herself suddenly, snapping back from wherever she had been. The look in her eyes made him uneasy. "You have to believe me," she beseeched.

"I don't believe any of this," he swallowed thickly, unnerved. "But I do believe I told you to get out."

He went for the door, intending to throw her out if necessary. She stopped him, grabbing his arm hard enough to pull him back around to face her. He believed her insane, out of her damn mind, even more so when she grabbed his face in both hands.

For a moment he thought she was going to try to kiss him, but instead she pressed her forehead against his hard enough to hurt and whispered, "Widziec."

Cedric moved to push her away, but she was suddenly gone. The air in front of him was empty, as if she'd vanished. In fact, everything around him was different. He looked all around recognizing where he was but completely baffled as to how he got there. He was in the royal throne room, and it was bright day instead of evening. What in the world?

A solder stood before of him, giving some kind of report. The man looked down at the floor as if afraid to meet his eye. Cedric tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but he couldn't make a sound.

The soldier was saying, "Sire, we destroyed the peasant rebellion, just as you ordered."

"Were there any casualties?" Cedric felt himself ask.

"Eleven men, three women, and one child, sir."

Cedric recoiled at the cold efficiency of the solder's report, speaking of dead women and children like so much collateral. But his voice said, "Good, perhaps they're finally learning."

He saw the solder's jaw tighten.

"Something you'd care to say, General?"

The solder shook his head, a tight gesture that belied his disgust. "No, Sire."

"Any prisoners?"

"Eighteen, Sire. They surrendered."

"Schedule their execution for the morning." Cedric waved his hand. "You're dismissed."

The general gave a truncated bow shallow enough to almost be an insult and clicked his heels. "Sire."

Cedric watched the general's retreating back. He contemplated having him punished for his insubordination, but there were so few men of fighting condition left in the kingdom. Most had died in ill-conceived rebellions against his rise to power. General Andrews was never meant to be a leader, but he was the best of Cedric's bad choices.

He looked down at his folded hands, feeling tired. The other Cedric, the one still wondering what in the hell was going on, saw the faint, purple glow of the Amulet of Avalor on his chest.

The amulet.

The Seer.

This was the vision she foretold. He'd refused to believe her words so she'd pulled him into this vision to show him first hand. This was powerful magic.

But it was true. He'd done it. He'd gotten possession of the amulet and taken over the kingdom. The throne room was his throne room now. He was king. Elation surged through him. But what had that solder said about a peasant rebellion? Fifteen people dead, one of them a child. Eighteen prisoners scheduled to die in the morning. He's ordered their execution as casually as ordering his morning breakfast.

Is this what Cecylia meant? This was the terrible future she'd predicted. She said he'd bring ruin to the entire kingdom. His confused thoughts were swept aside when King Cedric stood and walked over to the open window.

The village stood below, but changed. Several of the houses had been destroyed, burned from the look of it. Below in the castle courtyard nothing moved, not a single servant or gardener going about their duties. The whole palace seemed eerily quiet.

The Cedric of the present could feel his consciousness sinking into the vision. He could feel what his future self felt and what he thought.

This latest rebellion was the most recent in a never-ending string of fighting that began the day he ascended to the throne. He didn't want to kill his own people. If they would just bow down and accept his rule then he could be the benevolent leader he always wanted to be. They could love him, if they just gave him a chance.

He sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. A loneliness consumed him. He was universally despised with enemies on all sides. At first other kingdoms had tried to come to Enchancia's aid, but the amulet afforded him a terrible power that he did not fully understand and know how to wield. In the beginning he'd cause immeasurable, albeit unintended damage. He hadn't a single friend or ally now. Even his servants served only out of fear.

He had one last respite. One bastion of solace. And he was losing even her.

King Cedric turned, striding out of the room with more confidence than he felt. The hallways were empty. He heard the scurrying of feet and the quiet shutting of door. Every servant fled his path. He passed a mirror hanging on the wall and paused to take in his appearance. He appeared older, more careworn. Threads of grey webbed his black hair, but he looked immaculate in his royal attire. The Amulet of Avalor lay pinned over his heart like a medal of valor. The purple jewel pulsed with a sickly green glow, like an infected heart. His eyes were hollow and dark. The loneliness sitting in his chest threatened to suffocate him.

He continued on down the hall until he came to a door flanked by guards. They were superfluous given the numerous magic charms surrounding the room, but his omnipresent paranoia feared the loss of his second most precious possession. He wondered how much the power of the amulet would matter to him if he lost her.

 _Her?_ Present Cedric was still cognizant enough to recognize the significance of his future self's thoughts. Was this the her Cecylia spoke of?

King Cedric dismissed the guards with a wave. He didn't have anything to fear from her. She'd already hurt him every way that mattered. His hand shook when he grasped the door knob. A wave of guilt and desire warred inside him. He pushed the guilt viciously down, opening the door.

The room was awash with opulence. A gilt cage, but a cage nonetheless. The prisoner wanted for nothing except the one thing she couldn't have: her freedom. He looked across the polished marble floor, past the four poster bed piled high with satin coverlet and lace trimmed pillows, past the white pianoforte she no longer played, past the claw-footed tub that reminded him of better times between them, to the woman seated on the window seat, staring at the horizon with undisguised longing.

Days passed in such a way for her.

They used to talk back when she still believed his half-truths, omissions and outright lies, back when she believed this all a terrible mistake, back when she believed he had a heart worth reaching. For years he kept her sequestered away, ignorant of his darker misdeeds. Still, she wasn't a complete fool. She knew the amulet had corrupted him, or perhaps it was the other way around. She held out hope far longer than anyone could be expected, desperately trading her love and eventually her body, hoping to fill the void where the power of the amulet resided.

The loss of hope came gradually. Now he only came here when the crushing weight of loneliness consumed him. Being with her now, the empty shell she had become was almost worse that being without her. Almost.

* * *

Author's Note: Cecylia's name was just a spelling I liked. It's of Polish origin so I ran with it for her last name, which means "friend". I also made up the name of the king who is her patron. Widziec is Polish for "see".

The next chapter is rated M.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Happy New Year's Eve, everyone!

EOC, I'm begining to think you're my spirit animal. Yes, let's bring the darkside. This ship if ripe for the picking when it comes to serious dark overtones.

RatillaFresa - Thank you for the compliment. :) I also noticed you have quite a few Inu Yasha fics in your favorite list. I've written two complete Inu Yasha stories if you want to check them out. (Not shameless self-promotion at all. ;-) )

That ManX - Thank you for your review. Is it weird that I got the most joy out of someone telling me my writing "hurts [them] in the feels"? I love knowing my writing evokes emotion, even "bad" ones. That means I'm doing somehting right.

As I already mentioned this fic is dub-con, meaning dubious consent, but in the end I would call it hate-sex. When you sleep with someone you used to have feelings for but now just kind of hate. I did say it was a dark fic. You've been warned.

I should clarify for the sake of this pairing that the "woman" in question is, in fact, grown. Her exact age doesn't really matter, but I picture her to be safely in her 20's.

* * *

Foretold: Chapter Two

He knew she was aware of his presence but she continued to stare out through the window. He fumbled for something to say. Even awash with all this power, he still felt woefully inadequate. They both knew he only came here for one reason and she no longer deigned to make it easy on him.

He moved to the tray sitting on a little table. Lifting the cover of a dish he found the food underneath undisturbed. "You haven't eaten."

A protracted silence lengthened between them until he thought she would refuse to speak. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something."

"Why?"

Her disinterest annoyed him. "Because you'll die, that's why."

She shrugged her delicate, thin shoulders.

"You don't care if you die?" His voice rose with anger. "I've heard starvation is an awfully uncomfortable way to go."

She shrugged again.

He slammed the cover over the plate with a crash. She didn't even jump. "I care."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't wish to upset you, _My Lord_." She bit off the title like a curse. "I exist only for your pleasure."

"Don't," he warned. He didn't like to hear her say such things.

"Don't what? Speak the truth?"

His temper rose and he stormed across the room towards her. She had been purposely baiting him of late, perhaps wishing he'd end her misery. If so, she'd miscalculated. He would never end her life, she was too precious to him. But this veil of indifference was more than he could withstand.

He grabbed her arm, ignoring how frail she felt, and pulled her to her feet. "Why must you speak of such things?"

For the first time he received a good look at her. Even as thin and pale as she was, her complexion glowed like alabaster. Her blue eyes were two bright orbs. She had a full rose bud mouth and a head of thick auburn curls. She was absolutely beautiful.

Present time Cedric wondered what his future self was doing keeping such a creature locked away. Was she a witch? A sprite? Some dangerous being he needed dominion over? But it was more than the desire for more power. Future Cedric deeply and truly loved her, in a darkly twisted way. Was she his queen? If so, why was she locked away in this room?

"Why shouldn't I speak of such things?" She was saying. "What is the use in denying why we both know you are here?"

His countenance softened. Was it too much to ask for some affection? Some happiness upon seeing him? Once she sought out his company. But she was right, it was a charade to pretend otherwise and she no longer wished to play. The thought made the gaping hole in his chest open wider. She was his last sanctuary, if she were gone there would be no point to any of it anymore. He was in denial that she wasn't gone from him already.

"But you're right," she pulled her arm from his loose grip. "Why bother speaking at all? To the business at hand then."

She crossed to the bed. Present Cedric watched shocked as she stripped off her gown.

"Stop it," King Cedric commanded.

She'd already begun unlacing her stays. Her hands fell obediently to her sides. She blinked at him, as dispassionate as ever. "As you wish."

He teetered between rage and panic. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was his solace, the balm to his soul. He couldn't lose her too. He closed the distance between them, intent on rousing a response. He needed to rekindle the spark inside her, without it they would both be extinguished. He had proved an utter failure as a dictator. He'd accomplished nothing of what he hoped all this power and wealth would achieve. She was his only hope in so many ways.

Framing her delicate face in his hands, he pressed his mouth upon hers. She stayed like a statue, unyielding. He plied her lips with kisses hoping to soften her resistance, but it was useless.

"Damn you," he muttered.

"If one of us it to be damned, My Lord, I believe that to be you."

She was right, of course, but at the moment he was disinclined to care. He could handle righteous indignation, but her tone was devoid of emotion, as if the state of his eternal soul meant nothing to her. Her indifference he would not abide. Where despair threatened to consume him, anger flooded in to warm him.

"Very well," he snarled. "If I am to be damned I may as well act in a manner befitting my crimes."

He was done showing patience or concern. She was too stubborn to yield, and he was too selfish to leave her be. He wrenched the last of her laces from their moorings and pulled at the ties of her petticoats so sharply that her body jerked. When she was divested of all but her shift, he backed away to pull off his own clothing down to his shirt and pants.

Cruelty did not come naturally to him with regards to her and he took a moment to gather his emotions. He crossed to the sideboard, pouring a glass of wine from a crystal decanter. Half the glass disappeared in a single gulp. When he turned back around she was still standing in the same spot, but he noticed her fists clenching. Perhaps she was not as unaffected as she appeared. He had the sudden, petty desire to hurt her as she was hurting him. He dropped into a brocade chair sprawling his long legs out before him. He sipped the wine and stared at her, counting down the seconds.

They were lovers with a long, sordid history. Things were not cut and dry between them. She finally turned her head to look at him.

"What's the matter, my dear," he drained the last of his wine. "You were so eager to be done with it a moment ago. Don't tell me you've changed your mind."

She crossed her arms under her breasts. "I don't want you, you know that."

He rolled the empty glass between his palms, thoughtful. "You used to."

She didn't reply.

He sat back. "Well, as you put it so succinctly, shall we get to 'the business at hand' then?" He didn't need to say anything else, the downward flicker of his eyes told her all she needed to know. He set the empty glass down with a thump as she approached.

He lounged indulgently in the chair, convincingly hiding the unease he felt while she knelt between his feet. Her hands deftly unlaced the front of his breaches, bearing his stiffening manhood. His head lolled back when she took him deep into her mouth. She knew just what to do to drive him to the brink of madness, bobbing her head in a smooth rhythm. He could almost pretend, almost, that nothing had changed.

Her tongue slithered along his shaft, and he groaned. As much as he was enjoying her attentions, he didn't want to finish like this. "That's enough," he panted. She either pretended not to hear, or just didn't care if she disobeyed him. She continued on, adding a gentle suction. He knew what she was doing, hoping to make him come this way. He was tempted to let her continue when she lightly scraped her teeth along his sensitive flesh. When she did it again, a little too hard, he seriously wondered if she'd actually bite him.

"That's enough, I said." He pulled her to her feet, dragging her to the bed. He couldn't bear to look into her vacant eyes, or worse, to see disgust and hatred burning in them, so he pushed her down so she was bent over at the waist, her chest against the bed. She didn't protest, or attempt to resist when he eased her shift up to expose her bare backside.

He cupped his hand round the curve of her rump, slipping down between her folds. Two of his fingers slid easily inside her. He leaned over until his mouth was by her ear. "If you don't want me, then why are you already wet?"

She declined to answer, but squirmed on the bed as he pumped his hand faster. The sheets bunched in her fists and when she pressed back to meet him, he grinned in triumph. She was his now.

He was tempted to slid into her right away, but he wanted a little more from her than physical release. She couldn't disguise her gasp when he dropped to his knees and buried his tongue inside her. He sucked at her tender flesh, drawing out sounds of pleasure. She wasn't the only one who knew what the other liked. Her legs opened wider, sinking her weight against the bed. The subtle tilt of her hips gave him better access to suck on the tight bud hidden in her folds.

She came, and before she was finished he stood up behind her, sliding into her warmth in one swift, hard stroke. She groaned, and he chose to believe it was in pleasure. With his hands planted on either side of her head, he ground deeply into her, needing to be close.

She gritted her teeth in a snarl that was almost feral. She had indeed become the caged animal he'd made her. Raising up onto her hands, she pushed back against him. "I hate you," she snarled.

He could hardly believe his ears. She'd never said such a thing before. He thrust into her sharp and deep, not wanting to hear her say those words. "Shut up."

Her back arched while she moaned. "Make me," she gasped.

He decided to take her at her word, pounding into her hard enough to make the bed creak. She collapsed, gripping the satin coverlet in her grasping hands. She hid her face against the bed spread, muffling her cries. He wanted to see her then, to watch her come undone, if only to see some spark back in her eyes.

He pulled out swiftly, rolling her over on the bed. She barely had time to adjust before he was inside her again, pulling her hips forward and down. He stood between her legs and she had to grip the edge of the bed to keep from sliding on the satin bedding. He set a punishing pace, one that left her grasping to keep up. For a moment, only a moment, right before the end he looked into her eyes and saw the light that used to live there all the time. For a moment she burned bright, before she closed her eyes to throw her head back, moaning. He came buried deep inside her.

He stood an weak legs, gasping. When he pulled out she rolled away at once. He could guess only a little how she felt, hating herself for allowing him to touch her so intimately. He adjusted his clothing, tucking himself back into his pants. Grabbing the throw from the end of the bed, he pulled the blanket over her before sitting down on the bed.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"No, you don't." He spoke softly. He hoped that was true, but he wasn't sure anymore. She had more than just cause to despise him, but he couldn't bear the thought.

She drew the blanket tighter up around her ears.

He stroked his hand over her hair. She didn't pull away, but he feared she allowed his caresses because she was too numb to truly feel them.

"Please." He hated himself for begging anything of her. He'd taken so much already. But he was weak. "Please, don't hate me."

She didn't speak. They sat in silence for a time before he gathered the strength to rise and finish dressing. A king's job was never done and he had a kingdom to rule. At the door he turned back. She lay curled on her side facing him. Her blue eyes were dull and nearly vacant.

She was all he had left. The only bright spot in the darkness. She couldn't leave him.

"Get some sleep, and then you'll eat something." Perhaps if he said it enough, he could make it true. "Please ... Sofia."

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, so we all knew it was Sofia the whole time, but Cedric (er, present time Cedric) didn't. So, this story had to be OC because I think any reality where Cedric actually aquires the amulet and takes over is OC. The character was never really all that dedicated to siezing power, he just wanted a little recognition and respect. The idea behind this fic is that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Cedric started out with "good", albeit misguided intentions, and turned more and more by degrees until the darkness consumed him. Even Sofia couldn't keep him in the light and eventually it swallowed her up too.

Last chapter: Present time Cedric deals with the fallout from his disturbing peek into his future.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Poor Cedric discovers the whole truth behind the vision of the future.

For this chapter I was flying by the seat of my pants. I wasn't sure how I was going to end it, until I sat down an wrote it on the fly.

Foretold: Chapter 3

Cedric's mind came crashing back into his own body with enough force to drop him to his knees. Cecylia stood over him, swaying on her feet as she rubbed her temples.

"What the fuck was that?" He meant to yell, but his voice came out thin and weak.

"I told you," the Seer sounded as fragile as he felt. "Your future ... and her future, if you seek the amulet."

The images of what she showed him played inside his mind: a disgusting array of power, madness, and desire. On all fours on the floor, his arms trembled. _Sofia._ The name echoed in his mind, the tone rife with longing. His head shook back and forth as if he could deny what he saw. "No," he panted. "No, that can't be. I wouldn't."

"You wouldn't what?" Cecylia's voice gathered strength. "You wouldn't murder thousands? You wouldn't subjugate an entire kingdom with fear and terror? Or you wouldn't keep the girl as your personal pet?"

He gave up trying to regain his feet. Leaning on his elbows, he gripped his head in both hands, as if he could tear the images of their entwined bodies from his mind. The wine and food in his stomach sloshed viciously, threatening to come up. "No," he moaned. "She's just a child."

The Seer knelt beside him, softening to his distress. "Breathe," she whispered. "You need to breathe. Yes, she's a girl now, but she will grow into a woman someday. You saw her. She'll be beautiful, intelligent, and kind. And you ..."

When she stopped speaking abruptly, he turned his face. "And I, what?"

She looked shaken. "No, I have said too much already."

Cedric managed to gather his strength to him. He sat back on his heels. "No, you don't. You don't get to throw around vague portends and then shut up when it's convenient. What is it? All of it."

She sighed. "I see visions, some are clear and some are hazy. The future is rarely certain, and it is ever shifting, but some things remain constant. Your future, no matter your path, is entwined with hers."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She hesitated. "I have shown you what I can to avoid disaster. It is up to you to decide how to proceed, but know that whatever path you choose, your actions affect her future as well."

His mind reeled. How in the world did his decisions effect that of a village girl-turned princess? A child no less. Sofia had been a thorn in his side since the day she arrived, but she'd also proven a complicated ally. The girl possessed an almost unrealistic amount of good-will towards everyone, even refusing to see him for his true villainous intentions. He'd attempted to trick, manipulate, and deceive her at every turn but she remained convinced that he possessed a better nature. They were very nearly, dare he say it, friends.

"You mean if I don't take the amulet, then she'll grow up to be fine, right?"

Why did Sofia's fate matter to him? If he knew what the future held, couldn't he just not treat her that way? Couldn't he not _keep_ her? He shuttered even to remember what he saw all too clearly in his mind. The vision burned bright as ever, not faded in the least by reality. But it wasn't just the images that bothered him, but his future self's thoughts and feelings. He, the king, had burned for her, nearly consumed by a desire that present Cedric could barely imagine feeling for anything or anyone. No one could be that important to another person, could they? His solitary existence couldn't fathom such devotion, or obsession. Couldn't he have the crown without the girl?

As if reading his thoughts Cecylia implored him, "Please, don't believe you can cheat the future. I have shown you what I saw for a reason. If you pursue that power, you will not be able to control it. It will destroy you both and the kingdom with you."

He looked hard upon her. "How do I know this isn't some trick? Some other magic at work? Perhaps you invented the whole thing."

She blew out a frustrated breath. "Why? Why would I invent such a tale?"

He had no answer. He'd finally come to end of his excuses, but the truth was hard to swallow. "So if I pursue the amulet in any way, you're saying I'll ..."

His eyes lifted to hers and she saw fear in their depths.

"You said our path were intertwined," he said. "Am I destined to ... hurt her like that?"

Cecylia laid her hand upon his shoulder, offering comfort as she would to a wounded animal or hurt child. "No," she answered softly. Then she sighed. "It might be tempting fate to tell you this."

He scoffed. "You mean you haven't tempted it already by showing me my future?"

"I suppose I have, but it is dangerous for anyone to know too much of their own destiny before they're ready."

This time he sighed, sitting back to lean against the cupboard of his work bench, feeling weary. "You might as well come out with it."

"You're not destined to hurt her," she held her empty hands out as if showing him all she had to offer was the truth and nothing more. "But, you are destined to love her."

A little of the incredulous look her wore at dinner crept onto his face. "Sofia? An annoying child? I can barely stand the girl. She's so irritatingly ... good. Besides, she's," he did some quick mental calculations. "Nearly twenty years younger than I."

The whole subject made him uncomfortable. An age gap of twenty years was not so unusual, particularly between and older man and a younger woman, but he'd never stopped to contemplate such a difference while the couple in question was a grown man and a pre-pubescent girl. His unsettled stomach grumbled threateningly.

"As I said, it is dangerous to know too much about your future before you are ready."

"That's all fine and well to say," his voice rose in agitation. "But, Merlin's Mushrooms, what am I supposed to do with this information?"

Cecylia shrugged. "I had to do something."

Cedric wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to shout and carry on like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn't want any of what she had given him. He closed his eyes, but that only made the image of his future self pinioning the grown princess' body to the bed play across his eyelids. Sleep, he knew, was something he'd be lacking for sometime.

He looked at the seer, still crouched in front of him. All the fight left him at once, leaving him empty and tired. "What am I to do now?"

"You go on." Cecylia stood. "I can only show you what I have seen. I cannot answer that question for you."

He didn't like her standing over him, so he carefully picked his way to his feet, using his workbench for balance. "Is that to say you wouldn't try to stop me if I took the amulet? You could go to the king with the same vision you showed me."

She thought a moment. "No, I couldn't. I've tried to interfere in the past, with unintended consequences."

"And this isn't interfering?"

"This is ... a calculated risk." Her shoulders dropped and she suddenly looked old. For the first time Cedric began to contemplate what a toll such a "gift" would take on a person. "In truth, I don't know what consequences telling you will have. I can only hope for a better future."

She approached the door and he let her go without any interference. There was really nothing for him to say, despite the cacophony rioting in his mind.

Then he remembered something she had said before.

"You said I wouldn't have to steal it."

"No," she paused at the open door. Her eyes pierced him. "She'll give it to you."

He stared in astonishment as she quietly closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with only his thoughts for company.

-The End-

Author's Note: I can see how it's a promising start for a story, but I don't have one. I have a vague idea of a future where Cedric become a fierce protector of Sofia to compensate for the dark version of the future Cecylia showed him. Or perhaps Cedric leaves Enchancia to keep her safe from him. Either way his actions cause unintended consequences, conflicts arise, are overcome and love wins out. Something like that. It's just all those pesky details that happen in-between, like, you know, the whole freaking story. :-P And I don't have them, so this is done.

Review, review, review. Please and thank you.


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